


Uncle's Little Hellion

by Vertolina



Series: The Returned [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-12-15 21:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11814483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vertolina/pseuds/Vertolina
Summary: Takes place about four and a half years after the events in The Returned.Baby Dan is already six years old, Lucifer believes he has it all figured out and a familiar face decides to make a return.





	1. Should I Stay or Should I Go

“So what’s stopping you?” She sat upright, tilting her head to one side, her intelligent bright eyes, smiling at him behind the glasses.

 _Just like old times,_ he mused, taking in the familiar surroundings and the woman sitting before him, looking exactly like the day they’d first met _._ “You’re doing it again,” he chuckled, changing the subject.

“And what is that?”

“Trying to analyze me,” he huffed, shifting in his seat.

Raising her brows, she leaned forward, studying his face. “Isn’t that why you came to me? To help you get in touch with your emotions?”

“Or maybe I just wanted to have a chat with an old friend, Linda.”

“Amenadiel, you just told me you wish to leave the Silver City.” Her voice rose slightly as she fought to keep her expression steady. “This isn’t exactly what I call a casual discussion topic.”

“I don’t _wish_ it,” the angel protested, letting out a deep sigh.

“And yet you consider going back to Earth?” she queried, a benevolent smile, curving the corners of her lips.

“Just for a little while.”

“It’s okay to admit you miss your brother, Amenadiel. You and Lucifer really managed to reconnect during the time you spent together.”

“And then it all fell apart,” he groaned softly, dropping his gaze.

“Why would you say that?”

Shooting an unamused look at the woman, Amenadiel grunted, “Because I’m here and he…” His voice broke and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. “You must have heard the rumors... about him. About his life on Earth.”

“Lucifer has always been a little reckless,” the woman shrugged, but couldn’t hide the little frown giving away her concern.

“That’s what I mean – _a little_.” The angel rubbed his forehead, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Recently he’s been making little to no effort to keep _what_ he is a secret.”

“So you’re concerned about him breaking the rules?” Linda queried, narrowing her eyes. “There’s no other reason you want to see him?”

Swallowing hard, Amenadiel averted his gaze, before a barely audible whisper escaped him, “I guess, I sort of, maybe _miss_ the bastard.”

For so long he’d wished nothing more than to return to the Silver City, dedicating years to the single task of proving himself worthy of his Father’s trust. He’d craved the peace of Heaven so desperately that he’d missed the moment when the chaos of Earth had become home and the serenity of Paradise had lost its appeal. And now he was back, surrounded by his family and the humans he had the honor to call friends and yet he couldn’t suppress the familiar sing-song voice in his head – _boooorrrrriiinnng_. His baby brother. Perhaps he really missed him – his cheeky sense of humor; their little banters; the untamed spirit, challenging the limits of his patience.

“So what’s stopping you?” Linda asked again, her eyes filled with sympathy.

“I’m not sure he’ll want me back,” he confessed hesitantly, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “I abandoned him.”

“So it’s fear then?” The therapist nodded with understanding before adding firmly, “Let me tell you, you can stay here, tormenting yourself about whether or not your brother will reject you, or you can go and see for yourself. We have a saying, you know, down on Earth – better late than never. And if being dead has taught me anything, it’s that time is a flexible term. Go to him and give him a chance to have his big brother back. Who knows – he may surprise you.”

Biting back a smile, he shifted nervously in his seat, raising a brow at his friend. “And what do you suggest I do with Maze?”

A glimmer of sadness crossed her face as a deep sigh escaped her. Pretending to look through the window, she wiped a single tear from her cheek, getting lost in her thoughts. “Use Lucifer as a shield,” she suggested after a moment with a shadow of a smirk. “And send her my love.”


	2. May We Meet Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from the show "The 100" (this whole naming the different chapters thing is hard y'all :D )  
> This is really short, but the following chapters should be slightly longer.  
> Thank you for reading this story!

Hurried steps echoed behind him as he crossed the main hall and he turned around to face the creature to which they belonged. Two crystal blue eyes met his gaze and the corners of his lips curved upwards. She’d chosen the face she’s worn during her first life on Earth for her everlasting visage – soft porcelain skin, full rosy lips, sculpted cheekbones and a cascade of messy blonde curls falling on her delicate shoulders.

“Chloe…”

“You mind if I walk you to the Gates?” she asked, slowing down her pace.

Amenadiel shook his head in response, his brows furrowing in a small frown.

“Don’t worry – I’m not here to… give you a piece of my mind,” she chuckled softly, but the smile couldn’t reach her eyes. Folding her arms across her chest, she silently followed the angel out of the palace into the orchard spreading to the very edge of Heaven.

“Do you want me to… say hi from you?” he offered hesitantly, casting a glance at the woman.

Biting her lips, she murmured quietly with eyes staring blindly ahead of her, “Just tell him that I still mean every word.” She raised her gaze to see his silent nod and a small sad sigh escaped her lips. The passage of time didn’t feel the same as she recalled it back when her body had been flesh and bone, but the heartache of loss still stung just as deeply.

For a few moments they strolled around the garden, both of them blind to the divine beauty that surrounded them.  When the sweet scent of the ever-blooming cherry trees gave way to the cold breeze, coming from the cosmos, Chloe broke the silence reigning over them, lifting a brow at the angel. “Do you think it will work?”

Amenadiel frowned at her, baffled. “What will?”

“You know-,” she shrugged, summoning a small smile, “-the plan that needed Dan to be… uh... to meet him so early on in his new life.”

“Giving you an answer would require for me to actually _know_ what that plan is,” the angel huffed, averting his eyes. They both remembered the man’s initial reaction after God had confided His intentions to him. “I’m sure both of them will be fine though,” Amenadiel added, noticing the concern, written on his friend’s face.

She nodded quickly, forcing the corners of her lips to curve upwards. “If it ever becomes safe for you to be in the same room as Maze, be sure to send her my best wishes,” she asked softly, a glint of mischief twinkling in her eyes. “And maybe give her a hug from Trixie?”

“What are the odds I’d get to keep my limbs if I try wrapping them around Maze?” he scoffed lightly, shaking his head at the thought.

A genuine chuckle escaped her and she stood on her toes, pulling him close for a hug. “Don’t let him push you away,” she whispered in his ear, taking a step back to look into his eyes. “Lucifer has the habit of rejecting the good things coming his way.”

“Tell me about it!” Amenadiel scoffed, waving his hands in exasperation, before adding cordially, “See you soon, Chloe.”

He took the last few steps alone, followed by her burning gaze. The Gates opened for him and he held his breath, crossing the threshold with a heavy heart and outspread wings, ready for flight. His hands clenched into fists as he fought the desire to cast one last glance at his home.

 _Scared of heights, eh, big guy? –_ the ghost of his brother’s voice echoed in his head, chasing away his doubts.

And he jumped into the abyss.


	3. Flight Club

Earth greeted him with its bitter scent of smoke and sand, and salt. He remembered muttered curses and swallowed tears from the time of his exile when late at night, wrapped in the odor of the city, he’d struggled and failed to recall the redolence of the lilac, growing underneath his bedroom window back in Heaven. He used to loathe the muggy air, polluted and bearing the taste of every deadly sin. But now his lungs welcomed the familiar fragrance as he swooped down, his eyes searching for the silhouette of the concrete giant sheltering his brother. He caught the scent of coffee, grilled onions and roasted jalapenos and felt his mouth watering. The wind, whistling in his ears, drowned out the noise of the city beneath him, but for a fleeting moment he thought he could hear the sound of distant laughter and a cacophony of smashed piano keys.

He reached the edifice his brother called home and a small sigh escaped him before he could stop it. The building was dark, save for a flickering light, coming from within Lucifer’s penthouse. With a single flap of his wings Amenadiel ascended above the rooftop, eyes locked on the balcony as he contemplated his words to his brother. Over a century had passed since he’d last seen him, here on that same balcony, hands clenched in fists and voice trembling with pain as he’d muttered to him to do as he pleased. It had been his dream for decades – the gift to be welcomed back home – and he’d seized the opportunity, stubbornly convincing himself that Lucifer would be all right. He’d never needed him in the first place. But he couldn’t gather the strength to face Maze and say goodbye to her. Later in the Silver City he’d heard her voice screaming resentfully in his head “ _coward!_ ” – the only time she ever prayed to him.

The sound of cheerful giggle interrupted his bitter trip down memory lane and he blinked hastily to cast away the tears welling in his eyes. A child, no more than six years old, ran out on the balcony, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“Get back inside!”

Amenadiel recognized his brother’s voice and a fond smile spread across his face. He watched in silent amusement as the little boy complied with the demand only to dart back out a moment later.

“At least stay away from the balustrade,” Lucifer instructed with an almost audible eye-roll that made the chocolate-skinned angel chuckle under his breath.

“Hurry up!” the child whined, letting out a huff.

“I would, but I can’t find any of your jackets.”

“I’m not cold.” At the snort that echoed from the penthouse, the boy stamped his foot. “I’m _not!_ ”

“Fine,” Lucifer murmured amenably, stepping out on the balcony. “But the hat isn’t negotiable.” He waved a small azure beanie and the child grabbed it quickly, putting it on his head.

“There – warm and everything,” the little hellion babbled impatiently. “Can we go now?”

From his spot on the rooftop Amenadiel couldn’t see his brother’s face, but his mind pictured the smirk undoubtedly playing on his lips as he took his time to adjust the beanie so it would cover the child’s ears, ignoring his fidgeting and silent exasperated huffs.

“Right,” Lucifer breathed after a minute and two innocent grey eyes beamed at him. “Come on, you know the drill.”

With a wide Cheshire grin, the boy turned around, folding his arms across his chest. He stood still as Lucifer picked him up with ease and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, pressing the child’s back to his chest.

“How’s that?” he asked as the boy released one of his hands and clasped his sleeve. “Can you breathe?” After the child’s affirmative nod, Lucifer took a step forward. Before Amenadiel could grasp his brother’s intentions, the fallen angel unfurled his wings, blowing a gale as he gave them a couple of tentative flaps. “Still not too late to get that jacket,” he suggested and chuckled at the immediate response – _“Huh uh!”_

Lucifer bounced lightly off the marble floor, launching himself up toward the clear night sky and the kid gave a jubilant cry, releasing his other arm from the fallen angel's firm grip to feel the cool breeze caressing his face. For a few dreadfully long moments the Devil fluttered his wings frantically, bending so that his legs could support the weight of the wiggly little human he was holding. Amenadiel saw him tilt his head, whispering something into the child’s ear and a split second later Lucifer restored his balance as the boy remained perfectly still in his arms.

The angel soared above the pair, his watchful gaze scanning the buildings beneath them. An invonluntary snort escaped him at the thought that he should probably be thankful his brother hadn’t decided to put on the flight show in broad daylight and he shook his head in tired exasperation. Concealed by the darkness of the night and blissfully ignorant to the dozens of ways his stunt could end in disaster, Lucifer was loitering in the air, leisurely flapping his wings. It was nothing like his usual tempestuous style, testing the limits of his divine being as he raced against the light, a hurricane of whirling feathers. The fallen angel was gliding through the air, an occasional spin earning an appreciative cry from his tiny passenger. He drifted toward the ocean, hovering above the calm water, teasingly loosening the grip on the child who giggled every time Lucifer threatened to drop him. Something bittersweet and painful nested in Amenadiel’s chest as the vivid image of a dark-haired baby with pearly wings, still too weak to carry him, emerged from the depths of his memory and smiled at him. _How long has it been?_

He closed his eyes, letting the cheerful tune of child’s laughter carry him back to the times when there were no words for heartbreak or despair. He stayed lost in his thoughts for what felt like hours – or perhaps it had been just a couple of minutes – almost missing the moment the sound had faded away, leaving him alone amidst the cold darkness.

The Devil landed on the penthouse balcony, stretching his arms as the little boy jumped from his embrace and ran inside, shouting triumphantly.

“How could you not see it? It was a ginormous shark!”

Amenadiel heard the little human squeal as he sneaked behind them, hidden by the curtains draping over the glass doors.

“I believe you,” Lucifer yawned, shuffling his legs to the couch, his wings disappearing from sight. “Off to bed now.”

“But I’m not tired!” the child protested with a pout.

“You will be tomorrow. Maze said she’s going to come pick you up at dawn and you know how punctual she is about those things. You look drowsy in the morning, she’s gonna pluck my wings.” The fallen angel chuckled, closing his eyes in contentment.

“Will you come with us this year?” A glimmer of hope crossed the child’s features, before Lucifer shook his head.

“No, this is between you and Maze.”

“But I’m inviting you. I’m sure Maze wouldn’t mind. She always says that the more is the merrier.”

“Yes, but the context is slightly different,” Lucifer snorted, rolling his eyes. “Besides I have to go to work tomorrow.”

The boy furrowed his brows at him. “No, you don’t! Grandpa said you can take the day off.”

The Devil frowned, squinting his eyes in confusion. "Grandpa?"

“Peter,” the child clarified, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “He said I can call him that.”

“And how is he calling you?” Lucifer smirked, recalling the dozen nicknames the man had for him.

“Last time it was _hedgehog_ ,” the boy chuckled, throwing himself on the couch next to the fallen angel. “He’s goofy,” he added with a fond grin.

“Well, you can’t really blame him for this one.” A mischievous smirk lifted the corners of Lucifer’s lips as he gently bumped his little companion with his shoulder. “That hairdo was hysterical.”

“Maze said it was awesome,” came as a response and the Devil raised his hands in surrender.

“How can I argue with that?” With a fond chuckle the fallen angel ruffled the child’s hair. “So you and Peter have been conspiring behind my back, huh?” he asked teasingly after a moment, tilting his head to one side.

“What’s ‘conspayaling’?”

“I’ll tell you some other time,” the man laughed. “Now go brush your teeth.”

“But –” the boy opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his tongue as Lucifer’s body suddenly tensed up. The fallen angel jumped on his feet, eyes staring blindly ahead of him until his gaze shifted toward the balcony.

“Dan, go to your room.” His voice was gentle, but firm and the child silently obeyed him, glancing cautiously at the glass doors.

Lucifer waited until he heard the door of Dan’s room close and stepped forward, narrowing his eyes at the figure standing before him.

“Hello, brother.”


	4. Ghost Whisperer

“I see the dress is back,” Lucifer observed with a scoff before retreating to the bar in the heart of his penthouse. His eyes absent-mindedly scanned the magnificent collection of alcoholic beverages, the muscles on his back tense under the piercing gaze of the angel. “Should I assume I’m talking to the Wrath of God then?” he mocked, turning around with a bottle of whiskey and a single glass in his hands.

Amenadiel shook his head, watching as his brother downed two fingers of the amber liquid in one gulp. “It’s just an outfit.”

The Devil let out a soft “oh,” arching his brows as he poured himself another drink. “So this is what? A courtesy call?” he asked, a sneer curving his lips. “You’ve always been a lousy liar, brother.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Amenadiel breathed, a rueful smile softening the stern expression on his face. “Truth be told, I’m not sure what I was hoping to achieve with this visit.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to one side. “Dad didn’t send you?”

The angel slowly shook his head. “No.” He took a step forward, eyes locked with his brother’s. “I wanted to come.”

A brick of the wall Lucifer had built around himself the moment he’d felt Amenadiel’s presence crumbled and he dropped his gaze, hiding the traitorous feelings burning within the windows to his soul. Running his long fingers along the rim of the glass, he let a barely audible sigh escape his lips. “Why?”

Amenadiel lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Linda suggested I might _miss_ you,” he snorted, frowning as if discussing a gruesome disease.

“Linda…” Lucifer’s voice trailed off as he slowly raised his eyes. “She’s–” he hesitated, arching his browns in an unspoken question.

“She’s fine.” Amenadiel offered his brother a compassionate smile before gingerly resting a hand on his shoulder. “They all are.”

“Right.” The fallen angel nodded, a sardonic grin spreading across his face, and pulled away from the touch. “That’s good. Y’all put so much effort into the whole heavenly PR campaign promoting eternal bliss. It would be a shame if it was all just smoke and mirrors.”

Amenadiel shifted from one foot to the other, dithering. “They miss you, too, you know?” he whispered after a moment, watching as his brother tossed back another glass of whiskey. “They wanted me to tell you –”

“No!” Lucifer cut him off with a cry, his eyes shining with the tears welling in them. “No,” he repeated softly, shaking his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“And here I thought you never lie.”

A grim chuckle escaped the fallen angel, a pained grimace disfiguring the features of his face. “You offer me a message from the Great Beyond.” His voice faltered and he steadied it with a swig of the burning liquid. “My brother – the Ghost Whisperer! Am I supposed to fall into your feet and thank you for your kindness?”

“I just want to help you, Luci.”

“Help me?” Lucifer spat out, his cold laughter filling the space between the two men. “Help me?! You had plenty of opportunities to show up and save the day. Now is too little, too late.”

Amenadiel dropped his gaze, a glimmer of remorse crossing his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t come when you called. I… I couldn’t.”

“Daddy didn’t let you out of the house?” Lucifer scoffed and took a step forward, silently challenging the angel to look him in the eyes. “Didn’t want you to mess with His plan, huh? Tell me, brother, what is He up to now?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you admit He’s planning something.”

“Our Father always has a plan, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Lucifer sighed, wearily sitting on the couch. “He does enjoy being in control.”

“So this is what’s been eating you, huh?” Amenadiel murmured, taking the seat next to his brother.

“You say it like it’s a new occurrence,” the Devil snorted, but didn’t push away the fingers gently squeezing his shoulder. “You know,” he whispered, staring at the empty glass in his hands, “sometimes, when I let myself think about… everything… it feels like I’ve given up. I used to tell myself that it doesn’t matter that it’s His game as long as _I_ choose how to play it. But I’m not sure I can tell the difference anymore.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, your little flying lesson tonight broke about three of Dad’s rules.”

“Three?” Lucifer turned to face his brother, a smirk playing on his lips. “I was hoping for at least five.”

Amenadiel narrowed his eyes, a quiet exasperated sigh escaping him. “Is this why you did it? To get Dad mad? Would getting exposed be worth it?” he chided, eliciting a groan from the Devil.

“My world doesn’t spin around the bastard,” he grunted, standing up from the couch. “And while we’re at it, mind telling me _how_ exactly you came to be creeping on my balcony? I mean, assuming that flying is such a big no-no.”

The angel let out a huff, raising a hand to rub his forehead. “This is different.”

“Oh, is it now?” Lucifer bit back with a snarl.

“The child –” Amenadiel began, but his words were cut off by the sound of breaking glass.

“Is safe with me,” the Devil finished through gritted teeth. His dark irises burned with the scarlet flames of Hell and his brother slowly raised his hands in a placatory gesture.

“I never said otherwise,” Amenadiel said softly. “But flying around with him… Human technology is evolving. Do you have any idea in how many ways that little show could have got you exposed?”

Lucifer waved a hand dismissively as he waltzed to the bar. “And I assume you haven’t seen the special effects nowadays,” he chuckled. “There’s this series _‘Michael’_ – breathtakingly original, I know – that presumably focuses on the struggles of our dear brother. The character on the show has prettier wings than our _actual_ Mickey.” A grin spread across his face as he poured two glasses and offered one to the other angel. “Humanity will doubt our existence even if dear old Dad descends from Heaven on a fluffy cloud, surrounded by chubby little kids with harps.”

Hiding a small smile behind the rim of the glass, Amenadiel slowly shook his head. “Actually, Dan kinda hoped you’d do something like that,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “You know, half of our siblings are convinced it’s dangerous to have the two of you on the same plane of existence.”

“So he agreed?” Lucifer asked, frowning. “To _this?_ ” he gestured vaguely in the direction the little boy had disappeared earlier.

Letting out a deep sigh, Amenadiel nodded gingerly. “Eventually he did, yes. Beatrice hasn’t stopped laughing since.”

At the mention of the human, forever locked in his memory as the seven-year-old girl, eagerly throwing herself to wrap her sticky little arms around him, Lucifer shut his eyes, a mournful smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“She sends hugs, by the way,” Amenadiel whispered. “And so does Ella.”

“I told you I don’t want to hear it,” the fallen angel growled, revealing the glowing embers underneath his eyelids.

“So you don’t care what message Chloe has for you?”

“I know what her message is,” Lucifer whispered letting the fires in his gaze die out. “And I can’t hear it right now. Not when she’s so far away.”

He stumbled to the nearest armchair, fingers clenched around the half-empty glass.

“Lucifer?” a small voice echoed from across the room as a tiny figure, dressed in blue pajamas stepped into the light. “Are you ok?”

“Hmm,” Lucifer hummed, composing himself before turning to face the child. “Did we wake you up?”

The boy shook his head, casting a glance at Amenadiel. “Who’s this man?”

“My brother. One of them,” the fallen angel murmured, summoning a smile. “What have I told you about eavesdropping?” he teased, standing up to hide his glistering eyes from the child.

Ignoring the arm, trying to guide him back to his room, the boy took a step toward the angel, curiosity written on his face. “What’s your name?”

“Amenadiel.”

“Silly name,” the child grinned. “I like it.”

The chocolate-skinned man chuckled, kneeling in front of the kid. “And you must be Luke.”

A shadow of hesitation crossed the child’s features before he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right,” Lucifer breathed, tapping on the boy’s head. “Late hour, hello?”

Protruding his lower lip in a sulky pout, Luke waved at the angel, turned around and shuffled toward his room, followed by his guardian.

“Lucifer?” he asked as the Devil tucked the blanket around him.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Not if Maze finds out you’ve stayed up after midnight,” he chuckled, a gentle smile softening the features of his face and reached for the night lamp, hurrying to hide the true answer, shining through his eyes.


	5. Breakfast at Lucifer's

“Please, Lucifer! Pleeeeease!”

The high-pitched whine drew Amenadiel’s attention, tearing him away from the thoughts plaguing his mind, and he shuffled toward the source of the noise. The sun was still hiding below the horizon and the city was wrapped in the thick blanket of night, but a long noisy yawn had already announced the start of the new day in Lucifer’s penthouse. It had been a pleasant escape from the dreadful silence that had been reigning over the place since the fallen angel had tramped back in the living room, throwing himself on the couch with a deep sigh.

The child had padded to the hand-woven rug in the middle of the room, murmuring _‘breakfast’_ as a greeting and had lain down on the soft fabric, almost immediately falling asleep again. With a muted groan, Lucifer had risen from his place on the couch, muttering _‘Every single time’_ as he’d sloppily scooped the boy and carried him to the kitchen. Neither the child nor Lucifer had bothered to do as much as acknowledge Amenadiel’s presence and he’d let them follow their bizarre morning routine, relishing the scent of pancakes that had slowly filled the air, almost forgetting his troubled thoughts in favor of the wonder how could such divine aroma not exist in Heaven.

“C’mon!” Luke pouted, eliciting a grunt from Lucifer.

“I’ll never forgive Maze for showing you that stupid cat!”

Amenadiel leaned against the doorframe, observing the pair, an involuntary smile, spreading across his face. His brother was wearing Chloe’s old _Kiss the cook_ apron over his wrinkled shirt, his hands were covered up to the rolled-up sleeves in flour and a purple smirch was coloring the bridge of his nose, making it impossible to take his narrowed eyes and grumpy frown seriously. The child giggled when the man’s irises flashed red and jumped from the kitchen counter to fetch an empty bow.

“Just once,” he pleaded, placing the vessel in front of the Devil, before adding conspiratorially, “I won’t tell Maze.”

With one last overly dramatic eye-roll and a loud huff, Lucifer finally gave up, muttering a low _‘Alright,’_ much to the child’s delight. Glancing at the angel, he mouthed _‘Not a word’_ as a warning before proceeding to pour milk into the bowl, his expression resigned. He sat on a stool next to the kitchen counter, resting an elbow on the cold surface with an indignant look on his face as if that action alone had struck a deadly blow on his pride. Spurred by the boy’s impatient snort, he plunged his chin into his palm, dipping the index finger of his free hand into the milk. With an exasperated sigh, he raised the appendage to his mouth, letting a single drop fall on his tongue, before pushing the bowl away from himself, disgusted.

“There. Happy?” He raised a brow at the boy and bit back a smile at his jubilant clapping. “Alright, alright,” he chided softly. “Now finish your breakfast. And not a word –”

“– to Maze,” the child finished with a giggle, making a zipping gesture to his lips. “Got it.”

Lucifer nodded approvingly, handing him a box of cereal. “You know –” he added after a moment, casting a look at his brother, “– in some cultures it's considered rude to stand at the door like a creeper.”

“Right,” Amenadiel huffed, crossing the threshold. After a split second of hesitation, he sat on a stool, arching his brows in an unspoken question as he tilted his head toward the forsaken bowl.

“Disney,” Lucifer grunted as if mentioning a gruesome enemy and pressed his lips together into a thin line.

The angel let out a quiet _‘oh,’_ puzzlement still written on his face.

“There’s a cat named Lucifer,” the boy explained between bites, grinning at Amenadiel. “Luci looks just like it.”

“I do not!” the Devil protested, mortified. “Even if we ignore the ridiculousness of comparing the Lord of Hell to an animated feline, there’s still the fact that it’s fat.” He stood upright, displaying his lean figure as his most convincing argument.

“It’s fluffy,” the child corrected, stuffing bacon into his mouth.

“Even so, the Devil doesn’t look like any cat, Dan.”

“Oh, yes, you do.”

“I don’t!”

“You do!”

With a mischievous grin, Lucifer leaned across the countertop, bringing his face to the child’s eye level and slowly lifted the angelic glamour, revealing his true visage. “How about now?”

“There are hairless cats, you know?” the boy chuckled, reaching out to pat the top of Lucifer’s head. “Is it true that rubbing a bald man’s head brings luck?” he asked distractedly, staring at the glistering red flesh. A split second later his tiny fingers were buried in a messy lock of thick black hair, a pair of warm dark eyes gazing at him.

“Why do you ask?”

The child shrugged, knitting his brows. “Annika’s dad is bald. She said she wins every time we play a game, because she’s luckier.”

“Well, I’m not really bald, but since Amenadiel has decided to grace us with his presence, you can feel free to test the theory on him.” Biting back a smile, Lucifer turned to his brother who was observing the scene with a peculiar mix of fascination and silent horror written on his face. “Bend forward, bro.”

The angel grunted in response and the little human shook his head. “It’s alright. I don’t really want to beat Anna. She cries when she loses.”

“But there is something else you need luck for?” Lucifer queried, arching a brow.

Hesitating for a moment, the child nodded. “I want to win the candy competition. Julian McGregor always brags how his bag of candy was so full last year he couldn’t carry it.”

“Ever thought that Julian McGregor might just have weak arms?” the fallen angel suggested, winking at the boy. “Besides, you have something better than luck – you have Maze.”

Grinning widely, the boy looked through the window. The first red and orange hued rays of sunlight were dancing in the sky, casting away the darkness of the night. “She’ll be here soon,” the child beamed.

“She’s here,” a female voice corrected as the demon appeared in the doorframe, shooting daggers at Amenadiel. “What is _he_ doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, [this](https://media.tenor.com/images/28bed9c91de58e728a171044593ae412/tenor.gif) is the scene Lucifer was recreating :D


	6. Daggers and Feathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, but the last couple of weeks were a roller coaster. :/  
> Anyhow, this chapter was supposed to be about trick-or-treating, but I had this little idea and here we are :D

Amenadiel’s breathing faltered as the sound of her voice rang, cold and full of spite, and he turned to meet her unwavering stare. The image of her he kept hidden in the darkest parts of his memory didn’t do justice to her beauty, he mused as the demon narrowed her eyes in resentment, her body vibrating with rage.

“Why are you here?” Maze hissed, the razor-sharp blades of her daggers shining in her right hand.

Standing up from the stool, Amenadiel offered his former flame a small smile. “Hello, Maze.”

“Why don’t you go finish your breakfast in front of the TV, eh, Dan?” Lucifer suggested dryly, his eyes fixed on the celestial pair.

“Mrs. Goldstein says it’s bad to watch TV while eating,” the child declared, a smirk curving the corners of his lips.

“Mrs. Goldstein called the Child Services on me when you told her I’m the Devil,” Lucifer groaned through gritted teeth. “What Mrs. Goldstein says means jack squat in this house.”

“But I want to stay,” the boy whined, casting a hopeful glance at the fallen angel, before shifting his gaze to the knives in the demon’s hand. “You two never let me watch when you fight.” He crossed his arms with a pout, earning a chuckle from Lucifer.

“And this right here is something you can mention to the social workers the next time they decide to pester us with their interrogations,” the Devil scoffed, handing the child a full plate. “Now go somewhere less likely to be caught in the middle of a biblical scuffle.”

With a sigh, the boy jumped from the stool, shooting a defiant look at the fallen angel. “I’m eating on the piano,” he announced, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Atta boy!” Maze snickered, raising her free hand for a congratulatory high five.

“Really, Mazikeen?! I should have known you’re standing behind this,” Lucifer groaned, rolling his eyes. “You have any idea how hard it is to clean the keys?”

Fluttering her lashes innocently, the demon lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “What can I do? The kid’s a rebel.”

The Devil let out an exasperated huff and shook his head. “Sooner or later you’ll have to think of some other smart response.”

“Why?” Maze grinned, her sneaky fingers stealing a pancake from Luke’s plate. “This one works like a charm. Right, kiddo?” she asked, stuffing her mouth with the plunder.

The boy nodded, earning a quick peck on the top of the head, and giggled at Lucifer’s grimace.

“Alright, go ruin the furniture,” the demon instructed, ignoring the Devil’s muttering, and gently pushed the child toward the door.

Three pairs of eyes followed the kid as his tiny figure disappeared from sight, greasy fingers drawing patterns on the walls, and Maze slammed the kitchen door.

“So,” she hissed, turning to face the first of God’s angels. “What brings your coward, servile, traitorous ass back here? Daddy dearest gave you a new assignment?”

“No, Maze, I…” Amenadiel’s voice trailed off as he struggled to swallow the lump stuck in his throat.

“And you!” The demon leveled a glare on Lucifer, knitting her brows. “What happened to the whole _‘I don’t want to see him ever again’_ you’ve been throwing around since he left, huh?”

“Hey!” Lucifer chided, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t involve me in your lover’s quarrel.”

“Oh, I’ll show you lover’s quarrel!” the demon spat out, taking the few steps separating her from her former boss. “I knew it!” She scoffed, her upper lip curling in disdain. “I knew that no matter what this prick does or fails to do, you’ll still welcome him with wagging tail the second he decides to show up again.”

“Careful, Maze!”

“Or what?” she hissed through clenched teeth. “ Decades, Lucifer! He abandoned you for decades and yet here you are – serving him breakfast!”

“Maze, I…” Amenadiel’s voice echoed, brittle and faltering, drawing the demon’s attention back to him. “I’m sorry. I–”

“No,” she bit back with a snarl. “No, you’re not. But you will be.”

“I wanted to come back.”

“Oh, really?! You chose a very interesting way of showing it!” She blinked back the angry tears welling in her eyes, fists clutching the hilts of her daggers.

“You have every right to hate me.” The angel raised his hands, surrendering to her mercy. “And I don’t expect you to believe me, but… But I missed you.”

“You bastard!”

He saw it in her eyes – the pain; the broken trust; the wounded ego, refusing to accept that once upon a time she’d let herself care for him. And he knew his faith before the soft whistle of her dagger cutting through the air registered in his mind; before he heard his brother’s gasp or caught a glimpse of the deadly weapon whirling toward his abdomen. Perhaps _that_ was the reason he’d left the sterile tranquility of the Silver City – in search for absolution that only his blood dripping through her fingers could give to his tormented soul. Or perhaps he’d craved that one last bit of excuse only death could provide for him. Azrael wouldn’t come for him – he knew the way back home. His body would rest alongside Uriel’s bones and the crushing burden of choice would be lifted from his shoulders. He would never be able to come back; never have to spend another moment cursing himself for abandoning his flesh and blood, his heart. It would be a cowardly escape… But he would be free.

A bitter smile lifted the corners of his lips as a primal instinct took over his body, forcing him to jump from the way of his doom, his eyes absently following its path.

“NO!”

The Devil’s roar drowned out his own scream as the world turned upside down, a second stretching into eternity. He’d missed it – the moment the door behind him had opened, a small figure freezing into the frame. And he knew it was too late when he willed the time to slow its course. _No!_ He couldn’t move, paralyzed by the inevitability of the tragedy unfolding before him. He couldn’t stop the dagger forged in the bowels of Hell – only slacken its onrush. And it persisted, merciless and deadly, following the course of destruction it had been set on.

“DUCK!” The Demon’s shriek pierced the air, sharp and full of terror. And against the divine rules, reigning over the order of the cosmos, the child dropped on the floor, covering his head with his hands.

The angel felt his brother dart past him and a split second later a pair of pearly white wings were covering the little human. The boy lifted his gaze, eyes wide with fear, instinctively searching for the threat.

“It’s fine, you’re okay,” Lucifer breathed as Maze unplugged the still whirling weapon from the air, both of them oblivious to the elephant in the room, embodied by the small, rapidly breathing child.

“There, there now,” the demon cooed, kneeling on the floor. “Nice reflexes, kiddo,” she complimented, summoning a smile and the boy perked, the corners of his lips curving upwards.

“Really?” Luke beamed, cocking his head with pride.

Letting out a small chuckle, Lucifer rose on his feet, his wings trembling for a moment before disappearing from sight. “I told you to stay away from here.” He shook his head, exhaling a deep sigh.

“I forgot my Cap’n Crunch,” the boy murmured, shooting a glance at the kitchen counter and his eyes widened with amazement. “Wow!” In his dash Lucifer had pushed one of the stools, which was now hanging in the air caught amidst its fall. “Cool!” the child exclaimed, grinning at the flying piece of furniture, before raising his gaze to look at Amenadiel. “Are you doing this? Lucifer told me one of his brothers can slow time. It’s you, isn’t it?” He started bouncing with excitement and Amenadiel managed a little nod of affirmation.

“Yeah, I –” the angel stuttered, but Luke’s babbling interrupted his scattered thoughts.

“Do you always look like you need to go to the bathroom when you slow time?”

A distant part of the angel’s mind registered Mazikeen’s derisive snort, but his conscious attention was caught by Lucifer, who had kneeled next to the kid.

“That’s new,” the Devil mumbled, narrowing his eyes, puzzlement written on his face. “Dan, are you sure you’re all right?”

The child blinked at him, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “Yeah. I’ve seen Maze throw her knives before.”

“No,” Lucifer shook his head, suppressing a huff. “Do you feel dizzy, sick, in pain… anything at all?”

“Huh uh,” the boy breathed, knitting his brows in confusion. “But my feather is getting warmer.” He pressed a hand to his chest, before reaching under his blouse to draw a small pendant hanging on a thin chain. The silver-plated angel feather was glowing gently in his palm, pouring divinity through his skin and three pairs of eyes stared at it unblinkingly. “What?” Luke whined as the stool fell on the floor with a bang and Amenadiel snarled at Lucifer.

“You idiot!”

“It’s perfectly safe and I had a very good reason for doing it.”

Amenadiel grunted, rubbing at his temples. “The flying is one thing, but such a close proximity at all times? You don't know what it could do. Humanity can’t handle a pure piece of divinity, Luci!” he chided, stressing on the last sentence.

“It’s not pure.” Lucifer waved a hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. “It’s covered in silver. And that’s not humanity – it’s Dan.”

“Luci –”

“Do you ever get tired of being such a hypocrite?” Maze snarled, stepping between the angel and his brother. “You weren’t here. You don’t get to come out of nowhere on your high horse and judge us!”

“I’m not –”

“Come on, kiddo!” Ignoring the angel’s pleading look, Maze turned around, reaching for Luke’s hand. “We’re leaving.”

The boy stepped back, eliciting a grunt from the demon, and crossed his arms. “Why are you so mad at him? He seems nice.”

“And here I thought you were smart.” Maze rolled her eyes, throwing an angry glare at her former lover, before turning back to the child, her expression growing softer, “Will you feel better if I promise not to kill him?”

“Actually,” Luke grinned, “I was thinking he may come with us.”

“WHAT?”

Lucifer gasped, mouth agape and eyes staring in disbelieve. “Why?” he whispered with betrayed expression Amenadiel hadn’t seen on his face since Michael had marched against him, crushing his rebellion.

Lifting his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, the boy flashed a radiant smile at his guardians. “I really want to go to Adam and Eve’s.”

 


	7. Monsters, Inc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for [WellxWisher](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WellxWisher/pseuds/WellxWisher) who wanted some Dan/Luke and Maze going trick-or-treating... That was months ago. I hope you'll like it! I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish it! Life happened and I kinda neglected ao3. But I haven't abandoned this story. And, hey, it's never too late for a Halloween story, right? ;)

“Are you mad at me?” Luke whispered from the back seat as Maze cursed an elderly couple crossing the street a tad too slowly for her taste.

“No,” the demon spat out without averting her eyes from the road.

The child shifted nervously, searching for her eyes in the rear view mirror. “But you _are_ mad,” he insisted, an apologetic smile curving his lips upwards. “I’m sorry I asked Amenadiel to come with us.”

With a deep sigh Maze switched the car to autopilot and turned around to face the boy. “Don’t be, okay? Your plan is actually kind of awesome.” She crawled to the back seat, ruffling his hair as she ensconced herself next to him.

“Should I hate him like you and Lucifer?” Luke asked, blinking innocently at her.

The demon shook her head, stroking his cheek with her index finger. “No, kiddo. The prick has never done anything bad to you. Besides Lucifer doesn’t really hate him anyway.”

“But you do?” he frowned, studying her dark eyes, searching for the answer.

“He was a bad friend,” Maze breathed, her gaze becoming absent. “He left when we needed him. But…” her voice trailed off and the child perked up.

“But what?”

She rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated huff. “But it’s not entirely awful that he’s here now. Though I still want to make him suffer so don’t expect me to be nice to him today.”

Luke nodded understandingly and leaned toward her to rest his head on her shoulder. “He looks familiar. When I saw him it felt like I know him.”

The demon grunted in response, wrapping an arm around his tiny figure. “That’s because you do. Back when your soul was on Earth for the first time, you used to be friends with him.”

“So we were all friends?” He beamed, his eyes glowing with excitement. “Together?”

Maze summoned a smile. “Yeah. And we were happy… for a while. But that was a long time ago.”

“But maybe this time he’ll be a better friend and he’ll stay.” His voice faded to a whisper, a glimmer of pain shining through his eyes. “Then maybe you and Lucifer won’t be so sad all the time.”

“We’re not sad, kiddo.” She ran her fingers through his dark hair, pressing a kiss on his forehead. “We have each other and we have you.”

“Right.” The child nodded, exhaling a small sigh.

“Look, kiddo, if I were you, I wouldn’t put my faith in Amenadiel. We give others the power to break our hearts. Keep yours safe, okay?”

He hummed in response and she leaned back, absently staring at the buildings that were flashing by as they approached the apartment that had been her home since another child and a woman, she’d been lucky enough to call her friend, had welcomed her into their lives. She shook her head when the car entered the small alley leading to the private parking lot and her gaze landed on the tall man pacing on the porch.

“He’s here!” Luke exclaimed jubilantly, a wide grin spreading across his face.

The demon let out a deep sigh, narrowing her eyes at the angel. “Yeah…”

Amenadiel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Mazikeen followed Luca out of the car, a silent threat disfiguring the beautiful features of her face.

“We’re going to make you suffer,” the child announced, flashing a radiant smile at him, before wrapping his arms around his waist. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Likewise… I suppose,” the angel chuckled, a nervous smile curving his lips.

“You’re staying forever, right?” Luke blurted out, taking his hand to lead him inside. “Maze says you’re going to leave, because you’re a bad friend, but I don’t think you are.”

“That’s enough,” the demon chided. “We _just_ talked about this.”

The child dropped his gaze, letting go of the angel’s hand. “Sorry, Maze,” he murmured, casting a glance at his guardian.

The demon exhaled a sigh, shaking her head. “What have I told you about the puppy eyes?” She grinned at him and Luke chuckled.

“Uhhh… don’t remember.” He threw himself on the couch and winked at Amenadiel.

“I’m pretty sure there was some kind of rule that the Antichrist must be blood-related to Lucifer,” Maze snickered, ruffling his hair. “How did you become such a little devil?”

Luke shrugged. “I learned from the best.”

“Okay, then.” The demon narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. “So how do you suggest we punish our angel here?”

Luke furrowed his brows in concentration, studying the tall man. “Cupid?” he half-asked, half-announced, turning to Maze.

“Only if the wings are pink.” She smirked. “Wig?”

“Blond. And curly.”

“What are you two talking about?” Amenadiel queried, taking a step forward, his eyes shifting from the grinning child to the demon.

“You can’t come trick-or-treating without a costume,” Luke explained, shooting him a look full of indignation. “ _Everybody_ knows that.”

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” Maze lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, narrowing her eyes. “You can always leave. After all that’s what you do best.”

The angel met her cold glare with an unblinking stare of his own and slowly shook his head. “No, Maze. It actually sounds like fun.”

“We’ll see.” The demon’s lips curved upwards in a sardonic grin. “You’re lucky your stupid powers may come in handy.”

“So we _are_ going to Adam and Eve’s?” the child beamed, clapping his hands.

“Well, of course,” Maze winked at him and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Go choose your weapons.”

Amenadiel’s amused gaze followed the little human as he darted away, mumbling about eggs. “Who are these Adam and Eve you’re talking about?” He arched his brows at Mazikeen and earned a derisive snort in response.

“A couple of jerks,” she shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “They give away apples and other fruits for Halloween instead of candy. Hence the nickname. But their security system is better than those in most prisons. Other kids call them The Unprankable.”

“But not you?”

“What do you think?” A smirk played on the demon’s lips before fading into a sad grimace. “But it’s dangerous for the kid. He broke both of his legs last April’s Fool, trying to climb over their hedge.”

“Maze, can we take the fake poop?” Luke ran back in the living room, holding a bag of plastic excrements. “I can’t find the real ones.”

With an exasperated sigh, Mazikeen gestured at the child to come closer, taking the bag for inspection. “Lucifer threw away our entire stash of dog crap.”

“But why?” A shadow of betrayed trust darkened the kid’s eyes and the demon ruffled his hair.

“You were keeping it under the kitchen sink, kiddo. Besides, for a prank to work the poop needs to be fresh.” She wrinkled her nose, giving a sniff to the content of the bag. “These look real enough. Do you still have that fart spray I gave you for the bully that was bothering you last month?”

Lifting his shoulders in a small shrug, Luca nodded. “Sure.”

“Awesome. We’ll refresh the smell and no one would _dream_ they aren’t real. Cool?”

“Cool!” The child jumped with excitement, clapping his hands. “Do you want to spray him, too?” he asked matter-of-factly, blinking innocently at Amenadiel.

A diabolical smile curved the woman’s lips, before she shook her head. “No. We still have to spend the day with His Grace. Maybe later,” she added with a wink and bared her teeth at the angel. “We’re gonna have so much fun today.”

_________

 

“And what are you supposed to be, young Mister?”

“The Antichrist… duh,” Luke rolled his eyes at the dumbstruck old lady, who was misfortunate enough to be the third person to ask him that question, and sighed. “Treat or eternal damnation?” He shook his bag in front of the woman’s face, impatiently waiting for her to fill it with candy.

“What is it, kiddo?” Maze bumped his shoulder as they headed for the next house. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“My eyes itch from the contact lenses and the wings are hurting my back. And the woman from the house with the giant witch on the porch thought I was Dracula.” He knitted his brows, crossing his arms. He was dressed in what Maze had referred to as a „believable hellish attire” – black faux leather pants and jacket that the confused man at the costume shop had tried to advertise as fairytale prince clothing, matched with a pair of big prosthetic bat wings. His grey irises were hidden behind crimson contact lenses and his hair was combed around two spectacular markhor-like horns.

“But she paid for her mistake now, didn’t she?” Maze snickered, glancing at the almost full bag of candy. “Besides, people can be idiots. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.”

“Nobody mistakes what you are,” the child muttered with a sigh. “Or him,” he added nodding at Amenadiel and bit back a smile. The angel was standing three steps away, grumpy and brooding in his bedazzled tutu and pink leggings, holding a heart-shaped bow with a single arrow. He’d managed to beg his way out of the blond wig and now his head was covered in glitter and was glistering in the afternoon sun.

“If it’ll make you happy, you can dress like that next year,” the demon giggled, sticking her tongue out at the Wrath of God between the rotten flesh of her left cheek.

“I can see your son is alright.” A woman in her early forties smiled at Mazikeen as she approached the little group, followed by a boy in a Superman costume.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Well, apparently he wasn’t at school today. Julian told me,” she stroked the dark curls of her child. “We were terribly worried.”

“I’m sure,” Luke hissed, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

The demon shrugged, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders. “It’s Halloween… And it’s Friday.”

“Oh, I understand, honey. Halloween is sacred for… your people, right,” she glanced at the horns, crowning Luke’s head, her smile turning into a grimace. “It’s fine. You do what you do. At least you’re making an effort.” Her high-pitched voice faded to a whisper, “Unlike others.” She nodded at the tiny figure, covered with a white sheet, crossing the street, accompanied by an old man.

“Duncan dressed like a ghost again,” Julian scoffed, following his mother’s gaze.

“We wanted to host a costume competition this year, but some people’s laziness is just… outstanding,” Mrs. McGregor explained with a deep sigh, shaking her head. “No creativity.”

“Unlike you and your child,” Amenadiel narrowed his eyes, measuring the duo. “Living and breathing examples of the human genius.”

With a snicker, Maze turned to face the angel. “I knew there was a reason I found you attractive. Even if it was once upon a time.” Glancing over her shoulder at the tiny Superman and his mother, she waved her goodbye. “Happy Halloween. Have fun. I definitely envy the bastard who will have fun with you downstairs.”

“Are Julian and his mom really going to Hell?” Luke queried, struggling to get rid of his horns.

Lifting her shoulders in a small shrug, Maze grunted, “I don’t see them resting on a cloud, playing harps any time soon.”

Luke arched a brow. “Lucifer said Heaven isn’t like that.”

“Well, I was never there now, was I? Why are you taking off your costume? We haven’t even visited the Coopers yet. I think we might finally succeed in literally scaring the shit out of them.”

“Just a second,” the boy groaned, letting the heavy wings fall on the ground and closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the sensation of freedom on his shoulders. “Do real wings feel like this, too? Is this why Lucifer used to cut his own off?”

“No and no. Wings are a symbol of –”

“Argh, no one asked for a lesson in celestial phycology,” Maze rolled her eyes at Amenadiel, before focusing her attention back on the child. “What are you doing?”

Luke had scooped the wings and was marching toward the other side of the street.

“I don’t want them anymore. And I don’t mind people making fun of me.”

“What?”

“Hey, Duncan!”

The cotton-sheet-ghost turned around, but didn’t greet Luca.

“What do you want, kid?” the old man, holding Duncan’s hand, groaned between coughs, studying the red-eyed child and his companions. “My boy hasn’t done anything bad to you. Leave him alone!”

“I want to swap our costumes… if you want. The wings are heavy, but the horns are cool.” He dropped the prosthetic appendages in the man’s feet, nodding at the old sheet, covering his classmate. “I like your costume. I’ve been dead twice. Or so I was told.”

“Excuse me?”

“He means for Halloween,” Amenadiel explained quickly, pulling the child back. “We... uh... take this holiday very seriously.”

The old man looked up and down the angel’s attire, arching a brow. “I can see that. So what would you say Dunc?”

The ghost nodded slowly and two tiny hands lifted the corners of the sheet, revealing a grinning round face.

“It’s stuffy under this. Just saying.”

Luke nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Got it.” With a single swift move he threw the sheet over his head, adjusting it so he could look through the holes. “How does it look with the eyes?”

“Creepy,” Duncan approved, while his grandfather helped him with the wings.

“What do you think, Maze?”

“Whatever makes you happy, kiddo.” The demon rolled her eyes, fishing a candy bar out of the bag. “But for someone who doesn’t even have a positive opinion about Heaven, you certainly are trying to win your ticket there.”

The child shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Nah. I’m just making us even. A little good, a little bad… Halloween isn’t fun without the tricks.”

“What about the candy competition?” the demon asked with a smirk.

The child shrugged. “It’s for little kids.”

“Aren’t you gonna join us trick-or-treating?” Duncan’s grandfather murmured, shifting his gaze from one member of the odd trio to the other.

“I’m afraid not,” Amenadiel sighed, closing his eyes in silent prayer for patience and strength.

The demon laughed, racing the child to the car. “Come on, Cupid!”

Five blocks were separating them from the house of Jonathan and Carina Jenkins; or as Maze and Luke were calling them – Adam and Eve. The couple greeted them with variety of fruits and not even the low growl, coming from Maze, could shake their determination to give them a lecture about the dangers of sugar.

“See why these people need to suffer?” the demon groaned, watching Amenadiel munch on a pear.

“It’s not like they weren’t right ab –” the angel choked on his snack as his eyes met the menace in Maze’s dark gaze. “But I can understand why you don’t like them.”

“That’s better,” the woman grinned, winking at Luke. “Ready, kiddo?”

The child nodded, throwing the old sheet in the back of the car. His fingers stroked the angel feather on his necklace, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “Ready!” he shouted, arming himself with raw eggs.

With an overdrawn sigh, Amenadiel obediently slowed down the time, allowing Maze and Luca to sneak past the security systems and trash the couple’s back yard.

“Amenadiel, come play with us!” Luke giggled, strategically placing the fake poop on the doorstep, while Maze was wrapping the car with layers and layers of duct tape.

“I think I’ll pass.”

Throwing an egg at the angel, the demon snickered. “He can’t play, because of the stick shoved up his arse, kiddo. There’s nothing we can do.”

“Not wanting to be a part of an act of vandalism doesn’t mean I’m not funny, Maze.”

“Whatever you say, big boy.”

Rolling his eyes in tired exasperation, the man let out a deep huff, ignoring the mockery in the woman’s voice. “Would you, please, hurry up?”

“What? Scared Daddy’s gonna see you?” The demon scoffed, a derisive smile disfiguring her features. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s find a place to watch the show.”

It was just a moment after the world had restored it’s natural pace when a scream announced their job was done. Jonathan Jenkins ran out on the street, waving a baseball bat, shouting about miscreants and jail.

But the tomatoes, saved for that last part of the spectacle remained untouched.

“Luca! Kiddo!” Maze shook the motionless child in her arms. “Dan!”

The moment Amenadiel had released the mortal world from the grip of his powers, the boy had dropped on the ground, a tiny hand pressing the now cold and dead feather to his chest.


End file.
